The Things at Stake
by Reaching for Stars
Summary: AU, Yuffentine. Read more to find out, ha ha. T for language that isn't currently there, but may be in the future.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own FF7, DoC, or any video games/video game charries. Woe is me. Anyways, this is in an AU and I hope you like it. R&R appreciated, but I'm not gonna hunt you down and spaz at you if you don't review. God knows I usually don't...  


* * *

The Things at Stake

_Whooshpoof. _  
That was the best thing that Yuffie Kisaragi could think of to describe the noise when she killed a Vampire. It was better described without words. Being a very talented individual, she could imitate it...well, she could get it _almost_ right.  
The Slayer was currently bent over the ashes of a 'whooshpoof'-ed Vampire, as a matter of fact. See, there were a lot of really cool rituals you could perform with Vamp dust, and Yuffie was just one of the people who had the opportunity to try them out. She currently had 157 bottles, exactly.  
...Actually, she just kept them because the dust glowed in the dark after being kept in the sun. It looked cool. And, well, she only had 21 bottles. The other version sounded more impressive, so she just told people that. Also, if you said to a Vampire that you'd killed more than one hundred and fifty of his kind, he'd take you a hell of a lot more seriously than he would if you told him you were nine Vamps past a dozen.  
And if you told your watcher that you kept the bottles for protection spells, he'd like it a lot better than if he knew you actually kept them for night lights.  
Because, although she'd never admit it, Yuffie was scared of the dark.  
It was an odd thing for a Slayer to fear; she was faced with it constantly. But that was the thing about fear- you got used to it, but that didn't mean you were through with it. A person who's claustorphobic may ride in an elevator for fifteen minutes every day. Eventually, they'll get used to it. But they'll still be claustorphobic.  
The dark was just the beginning of what she feared. She feared evil, and she feared not being able to see clearly. It was a subconcious thing. When you couldn't see who was holding the knife behind your back, how were you supposed to defend yourself? When you were faced with boundless evil, what could you do?  
Even those two fears weren't the root of her phobia. What Yuffie really feared, what she was truly terrified of, was not being able to win. Not being able to act. In other words, losing control. No, not in small ways, like getting smashed or throwing a spaz, but life-altering ways. Ways that could change your future forever.

Unfortunetly, even her subconcious didn't realize that even the tiniest choice could alter things. This is the story of one such thing.  
It begins in an ice cream shop.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a sunny day. A typical summer day, in fact, and just one of those days when you (according to Yuffie) had no choice but to get ice cream. It was that, or the day was completely wasted. It was a little before sunset when she realized that, God forbid, THE DAY WAS ABOUT TO END, and SHE WOULD HAVE EATEN NO ICE CREAM.  
THE HORROR.  
Cursing like her rather vulgar, chain-smoking watcher, she 'borrowed' her best friend's boyfriend's cousin's (don't ask) motorcycle (which, for some reason she couldn't comprehend, was named after a Norse wolf-god-thing) and sped off without a helmet, which made her best friend warn her to be careful. Although, because the boyfriend was yelling something like "Don't you get a scratch on it, yo, or Cloud'll kick my ass", she didn't hear the warning.  
"Yeah, Reno," she yelled, "Because I care about your personal well-being!".  
Anyways, she borrowed the motorcycle and went to go get ice cream.

"Hi! Welcome to Yummy Yolanda's! Do you know which flavor you want?"  
This was the choice that would change her life.  
See, had Yuffie gone with plain chocolate, she would have been slightly less happy, and would have just bounced out of the store.  
As it was, she decided to ask for the last scoop of double-chocolate-caramel-with-peanuts, hoping that there was enough left. It looked like there wasn't enough left, but, to her (maybe) luck, there was.  
"Awesome!" And, having yelled that, she spun around victoriously, and spotted-  
and spotted-  
a _total hottie._

As it was, the hottie was there to eat, but he wasn't there for the ice cream. No, _his _meal would come later. It just needed to finsih eating its ice cream, and then he could have a, er, _bite_.  
Vincent, the vampiric hottie in question, was acting at the moment. The chatty blond across from him was talking about her ex-boyfriend, and he was nodding sympathetically, his bloody eyes watching her face. The girl was charmed by his pretended attention, and was blushing. Her eyes were sparkling, all that.  
_Well, at least she'll die happy. _He thought, rather nonchalantly.  
But suddenly he was distracted. Sensitive to everything (like all Vampires), he felt a small current of air go through the room- somebody had moved quickly and it had been a big movement. When he looked, he found it was a petite girl, celebrating the fact that she'd gotten the last scoop of some stupid ice cream flavor.  
She looked delicious.  
And, he realized, she was staring at him. He brushed it off as nothing. People tended to do that- even for a Vampire, Vincent was decidedly gorgeous. He had long, straight hair, black as the darkness Yuffie so feared. His eyes were, as mentioned before, a blood red with an orange tint. Most people assumed he wore contacts.

Not Yuffie. Yuffie knew exactly what Vincent was, as soon as she stopped swooning. _Not human, _she realized. Pale skin, hot, not eating- definitely a Vampire. She absentmindedly reached back for her stake, licking her ice cream all the while.

Something about the girl was off. That was what Vincent was thinking, and out of the corner of his eye he was watching her with interest. She noticed. She smirked, in fact, and her gaze compelled him to stare further. Then, she did something that made him even more suspicious. _Hungry?_ She mouthed, and pointedly took a large, vicious bite out of her ice cream. In a Vampire-Slayer relation, there was a standard game. Its name? Spot-me. The first to recognized was usually the dead one. And, worryingly, he'd been spotted first.  
There was a reason why Slayers had a definite advantage, if you could really call it that. They looked exactly like everybody else. They walked the same (maybe more confidently, though), talked the same, moved the same, ate the same, drank the same, acted the same, looked the same. They didn't have any constants except for that fact that they were always female. Color, size, attitude- it all differed. Sure, most of them wore sports clothing (or just stuff that was easy to move around in...) and were tempermental sluts, but there were a lot of girls like that. Slayers, unlike Monsters, could blend in. That was their greatest ability.  
However, it was also a hindrance. They had to live in the normal world, because, to everyone else, they were a part of it. No slayer could ever do that perfectly. Eventually, you made a choice; secrecy and safety, or love and a risk. Most Slayers chose the first option. That was their curse. One of the only things they shared with those they hunted: the obligation to be alone.  
At least, you had the choice if you lived that long.  
Since it was her or Vincent, he decided to get into the fight right away. It was dark by now, so they wouldn't have any trouble with the sun.  
"Sorry, I have to go. I know that girl, and I really have to talk to her." he apologized, flawlessly faking his way out of the conversation. He always did this. Just in case.  
Yuffie was waiting for him, grinning widely. "Hey, you!" She smiled, using a rather amusing (to her) flirty tone of voice. Vincent was irritated by this- apparently, Yuffie reasoned, he didn't take well to other people faking.  
_Well, looks like she's a...hyperactive slut. To be completely honest. _Vincent thought, taking note of the really-short-shorts and the top Yuffie was wearing (which just screamed 'look-boobs-and-tummy!' and may have been a kleenex or two in a past life). Of course, he had no idea that Yuffie considered herself too good for most guys and thus was still, regrettably, a virgin.  
As he was looked, he took note of a few more things. The large, sparkly brown eyes, for instance, that were in the middle of a cute face on a delicious-looking neck. And, of course, the slim legs, which for a moment seemed to have no end whatsoever. The sudden surge of desire, deep in his frozen heart, was mistaken for hunger.  
"Let's talk outside. It's nice out." He replied, smirking right back. Yuffie nodded, but inwardly cursed her raging teenage _whore_mones. "Sure thing, _honey_," She replied, giggling and looping a gangly arm over his (frankly nice-looking) shoulders. He raised an eyebrow, but was sort of amused. Though he wouldn't admit it.  
_He-  
She's-  
Kind of nice_, they thought.  
_Too bad I have to kill 'em.  
_


	3. Chapter 3

'Kay, I don't remember if I put in a disclaimer or not, so here goes: I don't own ANYTHING to do with FF7, Squeenix, or the characters in this story that appear in any of the games. Kapeesh?  


* * *

Once they were outside, they walked towards an alleyway, Yuffie's arm still looped around Vincent's shoulders. To the casual observer they appeared to be a simple couple, taking a shortcut home.  
Casual observers are clueless.

_Time to give myself an advantage, _Vincent thought. He wasn't above cheating, not when his life was at stake. Slowly, his hand slid through the air, nearing the stake in Yuffie's back pocket.  
Unfortunetly for him, Yuffie's bare middriff and lower-middle back felt something brush by- he hadn't suspected that the whore getup had any practical use.  
"Honey, I know you like my bum, but hands off." She said loudly, and Vincent's hand withdrew quickly, like a retreating snake. And, just to be safe, she switched the stake to her other pocket.  
_Damn, _thought Vincent, eyes narrowing. He was getting more than a little frustrated with the Slayer Girl.  
_I'll make sure to hit her a few times before sucking her blood out, _He consoled himself, although he knew he'd regret any extra violence. He didn't like hurting anyone any more than was absolutely necessary.

...............................................................................................................................................................................................

_"Vincent, wake up."_

_He felt numb, so numb.  
"Vincent, pet, up."  
No, not numb. The numbness was leaving.  
He wanted it back.  
"Vincent, I _said _get _up_."  
The numbness was no more, giving way to an excruciating burn under his skin, in his blood, in his brain, Oh God, he'd do anything just to make it go away go away go awaygoawaygoawayawayaway-  
_  
_Black.  
_...............................................................................................................................................................................................

Yuffie, on the other hand, was going through tactics in her head. Although she didn't know it, she had an advantage- she knew the area, while he was a newcomer. She'd walked the alleyway every night for months, and she knew precisely where even the rotting apple cores and rusty coke cans lay.  
Vincent, well... he knew diddly-squat.

They entered the dirty old alleyway, and Vincent had to make a split-second assessment of his surroundings.  
_Dirty. Garbage can by the left wall, walls are made of brick, lamp-post at the end of the alley-  
_Yuffie made the first move, mostly out of impatience and and itch to punch something. He hadn't expected her to strike so soon. Most Slayers were instructed to never make the first move.  
_Stop being a blasted idiot and start fighting instead of underestimating her, _he told himself, and retaliated.  
She'd punched him in the nose, and he'd heard a crack. She'd probably broken it, but it didn't matter. He'd heal soon enough.  
He tripped her, and she shot back up like a weed on steroids.  
_Odd thing to compare a Slayer to, _He thought absently, and then cursed himself and focused on his fighting.

They exchanged blows rapidly, each trying to gain the upper hand. Whoever was forced to the floor or a wall first was dead.

And then Yuffie scraped her knee.

The sweet, coppery scent of blood wafted into the night air, and Vincent responded to the smell almost immediatly. His pupils shrank, eyes glowing brighter red in the darkening alley, and he snarled. Yuffie frowned. He charged.  
It was a stupid move, as it turned out. She saw it coming, and leaped out of the way, propelling herself to the wall like she could fly. She hit the wall with her sneakers, forcing herself at Vincent with a split-second push. She ended up crashing into his chest, knocking him to the ground. By all rules, he should have been dead.

Instead, he looked into her eyes, and he looked into hers. Red and brown irises reflected each other, and time stood still. Her stake was raised, quivering, just an inch above his unbeating heart.

_Wind and darkness straining  
Eyes and souls and minds connecting  
Life sustaining  
A balance correcting-...  
Why can't I remember the rest of the poem? _Yuffie thought, as she stared into the eyes of the enemy.  
_And why am I remembering that stupid old thing anyways?_

Vincent stared back, waiting for her to kill him. He didn't look scared, or even sad. He looked like he'd accepted what was to come.  
And for some reason, it made her stop.  
_Fight back, damnit, _she urged him silently, eyes wide.  
_Just kill me already, _he replied, and then they realized that they could hear each other's thoughts.

...............................................................................................................................................................................................  
Yeah, I have no idea where this is going. I'll figure it out eventually.


	4. Chapter 4

_WHAT THE HELL!?!  
I think we can hear each other's thoughts.  
Yeah, well, you're crazy! Er, wait, no I'm crazy, since you can't be talking...  
...Huh.  
Stop being in my head!  
Yes, well, it isn't like I'm doing this for shits and giggles, Slayer. _Vincent thought, and if he'd spoken this aloud, it would've been drawled rather quietly.  
_Jerk! How is this happening, anyways? And, hey! Why do you want me to kill you?  
I wanted it over with. As to your first question, I have no idea. Care to repeat that poem?  
I can't remember it at all anymore. _Surprisingly, she felt extremely dissapointed by the thought, like she was missing something really important.  
_Odd. Where is it from? I might be able to find it, I own many old documents.  
It wasn't a document, my mom used to sing it before she died.  
_Vincent kept looking at her, red eyes wide and looking strangely innocent. She shifted and rolled off of him, sighing.  
_Truce?_ Vincent asked, blinking.  
_Sure, but...no biting humans, okay? You'll have to make do with animals for now. _Yuffie replied firmly.  
_Fine. _His lack of resistance surprised her.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded in the alleyway. Given that they were both on the ground and somewhat beaten up, some rather odd questions could be brought up. Not to mention that it could be the police. Yuffie swore, and Vincent pulled her up.  
_Follow my lead, _he thought, and put his arms around her and strategically covering a few cuts with his sleeves. Then he kissed her.  
_Wait, what are you- ooh..._  
_Act like we're a couple and they'll pass us off as hormonal teenagers.  
_Yuffie wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him a little more intensely than necessary. She closed her eyes.  
The stranger walked past them, -it _was _a cop- rolling his eyes. Stupid teenagers. Couldn't keep their hands off each other for five seconds.

When he was gone, both Yuffie and Vincent forgot to pull away, and they remembered at almost the same moment.  
_Oh yeah, _Yuffie blinked, pulling away slightly.  
_Right, _Vincent thought, letting her go. They opened their eyes.  
..._That was...  
Interesting, to say the least...  
Yeah..._  
_Ahem, _they both thought, looking away.  
_So..._Yuffie thought, and Vincent didn't respond. _Hey! _She frowned, as he still didn't move. "Vincent," She said, rather loudly. He turned, looking at her curiously.  
"What?" He asked.  
_Why didn't you hear what I was thinking?  
You were thinking something?  
Duh. I couldn't hear what you were thinking, either.  
That's odd. I can hear you now.  
Yeah...  
Wait, Yuffie. The poem?  
Eyes and souls and minds connecting..._Yuffie remembered suddenly.  
_Exactly!  
Hey, Sherlock? Care to share?  
When our eyes aren't connected, we can't hear each other's thoughts.  
Oh. Oh, and it started when-  
We looked each other in the eyes, yes.  
But we looked before then, didn't we?  
Yes, but we only tried to kill each other in that moment. It triggered the...thing, I suppose.  
Oh.  
Quite.  
...We should get out of here.  
Yes, we should. _He started to walk away, and she followed.  
"Hey, wait up!" She called, frowning. He slowed down considerably, and she caught up to him soon enough.  
"Is there a hotel nearby?"  
"Pff, you kidding me? No one wants to stay here. You can stay at my place...if you promise not to bite me."  
"I won't, I promise."  
"Swear to...God?"  
"I swear to God I won't bite you." He winced a little at the mention of God, as the name caused him brief flashes of excruciating pain.  
"You okay?"  
"Don't...mention anything holy while I'm around."  
"Guess I better take those crosses in my room down."  
"I'm sleeping in your room?"  
"Yup. No guest room. Plus Dad would freak. Oh, and you can take the bed, I'll take the cot."  
"No, I insist. I'll take the cot."  
"No, I'll take the cot. I'm the hostess, doofus."  
"Yes, but I am the intruder. I call the cot."  
"Call it all you want, it's not answering the phone."  
"Lame."  
"Whatever. I get the cot."  
"No."  
"Yes."  
"No."  
"Yes."  
"Yes."  
"Glad to see we agree, Vinnie."  
"No."  
"Okay, then, we BOTH get the bed."

She glared. "It's that or I sleep on the cot."  
"...Fine."_Hopefully she's bluffing.  
_"Alrighty, that's settled." She grinned, and he scowled.  
"Yuffie, why don't I just take the cot?"  
"Because my Slayer honor would be TARNISHED, Vincent, TARNISHED."


End file.
